Stonehenge

We’re slowly making our way up the west coast of Fraser island, trying to escape the cold snap. Thanks to meeting Pat, a local from Tin Can Bay, we stopped at Yankee Jack Creek (Tumbowah), not far from Ungowa. We were able to venture along the deep creek via dinghy through the mangroves to pure fresh water, though the familiar brown colour from the tannin. At an earlier time logging had been carried out there, but the bush appeared to be recovering. A very pretty spot – thanks for the recommendation, Pat.

Turner-esque skies 

Sunset ritual

Yankee Jack Creek

We then made our way to Ungowa, slightly further north, to anchor for the night. There is a wreck at Ungowa, Ceradotus, and an abandoned ranger station, previously a logging facility. With tracks hard to find at the last couple of anchorages and sandfly infested beaches, plus a 24 hour drenching of rain at Ungowa, Matey was craving a walk (through she did manage to get some exercise rowing at Yankee Jack Creek).


Later this afternoon we arrived at Ballargan, further to the north at Fraser Island, where there is an old jetty (McKenzies Jetty) and a beautiful forest walk. It seemed to be the right time of day for photos ...

Captain makes an irresistible fashion statement while trying to keep the sandflies out

Up and down with the tide

A few days in Tin Can Bay meant a visit from Barry, who drove from Noosa for an evening of mirth. We stayed at a protected anchorage nearby called Carlo, home to a pretty caravan park and camping ground. Barry reminded us of how to play cards, specifically ‘Up and down the river’. Far be it from the Matey to gloat, of course, but the Captain, as always, was gracious in defeat.

Scotch o'clock, err, sunset, with Barry

The weather at ‘Tuncunba’ (in the local Aboriginal language, apparently referring to a very large fish, scant now of course) improved and apart from the challenge of getting ashore at low tide (trudging through slippery and sticky mud), we have enjoyed a few more days anchored near this mostly quiet little town (except at dusk at parrot-o’clock), with panoramic views, and chocolate éclairs in the bakery.

Matey was pleased to spot a large, pale pink sea snake just near the boat – the first time she has seen one. We saw a turtle and some dolphins, lots of small fish (and Matey rescued a stranded prawn at low tide – hopefully the God of Prawns will remember this one day when she has her prawning net in hand). Captain managed to catch some small fish (but they were quickly thrown back due to size). However, a local confirmed that the area is all fished out. Hmmm...

Kill Tin Can Bay!

Tin Can Bay has a pleasant little marina, but apparently this ain’t enough and a new mega-marina is proposed. Too bad for the shorebirds. And what’s left of the marine life. Gotta have somewhere to park those screaming super-powerboats after all so a big, fat marina halfway out into the bay is just the thing. Anyway, the mud is a nuisance so why not dredge it? So much room for improvement. Gag those greenies!

Sunset at Tin Can Bay

The Gemini legend

What can I say? You have to be born under the right star sign. With so few Gemini catamarans in Australia the opportunity to have a look on board doesn’t sail in every day. Two people at Tin Can Bay motored up asking ‘is that a Gemini?’ and Kerry, a likeable and like-minded soul, shared some fishing tips. We hope we'll see him again. Kerry kindly drove us to the nearby town of Cooloola, which has a ‘real’ supermarket. This made serious stocking up easier and cheaper. Thanks Kerry!
We're also grateful to Pat for sending through some photos of us under sail – thanks Pat – we hope you find your Gemini!

We were able to refill the water tanks at the public jetty (as well as carrying extra in containers – so we now have about 300 litres – in the process we met a nice man named ‘Jumbo’, and we have been pondering how he might have acquired his name). But, pleasant as Tin Can Bay is (pre mega-marina anyway), it was time to move on. So, refueled in every sense, we hope to be able to avoid any need for ‘civilisation’ for at least two weeks. It will be interesting to see how long we (and the fruit and veg) last. We are now anchored between Stewart and Dream islands (off Fraser Island) – another beautiful spot – especially at sunset. We’ll make our way up Hervey Bay in the coming days – Matey looks forward to meeting sand rather than mud and being able to swim ‘off the back of the boat’.

Almost at Stewart Island

Between Stewart and Dream

Tin Can Bay

On Saturday we sailed south to Tin Can Bay – a pretty spot with, mercifully, fewer sandflies than Garry’s anchorage. With a gentle breeze and calm waters Matey was relieved to enjoy sailing once again. On Sunday, finally we caught up with (Big Cuz) Jane, and Mark, who drove up from Mooloolaba/Buderim. Fortunately the effort was rewarded with a beautiful day (rare lately), so we sailed to Inskip Point for lunch. 

Big Cuz and Matey catch up

Overtaken

Mark enjoys being helmsman

Someone lives on this tall ship

 Tin Can Bay has a laundrette, supermarket, bakery, good fish and chips (to the Captain’s delight) a BP, and gas bottle filling facilities – basically everything we need. It even has a swimming pool (to the Matey’s delight). Meanwhile it is a quiet town with panoramic views – a pleasant change after Brisbane. A good location for whiling out the colder, somewhat wintry weather, until Barry visits on Wednesday. The challenge is getting ashore when the tide isn’t high. We’re anchored out about a kilometer from shore so if it’s low it involves a long trudge through mud. Otherwise it’s a long dinghy trip, which is preferable, but Matey decided to row home on Sunday night and her shoulders are still feeling the effects.

Captain and the birds

The Great Sandfly Straight

With a gentle southerly breeze Tuesday’s action was an enjoyable sail to Garry’s anchorage on the eastern side of Fraser Island. We ventured ashore for a walk at about 4.30 pm as the tide was approaching low. Not a good idea – feet sank into mud as we hopped out of the dinghy, though at high tide you would avoid this. Matey was excited, as always, to see her sweet but reluctant friends the soldier crabs running for cover. On the bank we were confronted by signs warning of dingoes, and crocodiles (hmmm, this far south?) Thoughts of swimming mysteriously evaporated. A short walk inland revealed we’d left it too late as mosquitos and sandflies launched a serious attack so we retreated to the boat and planned a walk for next day at high tide.


So, yesterday we rowed ashore not long before high tide and disembarked onto sand. An invigorating, long walk along a bush track revealed a range of vegetation, including imposing eucalypts. A cute green tree snake blocked our path but by the time Matey retrieved her phone it had vanished. Captain spotted some dingoes in the distance but myopic Matey missed them. Clearly the mosquitoes and sandflies here don’t respect the usual practice of a truce between dawn and dusk: we were assaulted by mosquitoes all the way and ravaged by sandflies too, apparently, as Matey still has bites revealing themselves in unfortunate places by the hour. Captain has been inspired by another yachtie’s fishing success here and has retrieved the reels. It’s a pretty spot here – but insect repellent is clearly essential for those brave enough to venture ashore …

Captain cracks up while fishing

A burqa would have been more sensible

Raising the bar

Finally, on Saturday, with the cyclone season at an end and light southerly winds forecast for a few days, we waved goodbye to Brisbane, exited the river and headed north. We anchored for the night at Bulwer at the north of Moreton Island at the bay entrance. Being the Easter long weekend it was partyland and campers on the beach generously shared their music until the wee hours. The full moon shone across illuminating the island, water and merriment on the beach.

Next morning the anchor came up at 4 am (ouch!) and we were once more making our way north. The planned stop at Mooloolaba had to be postponed as a revised forecast suggested it would be wise to cross the treacherous Wide Bay Bar at the southern tip of Fraser Island at high tide on Monday morning, so rather than hugging the coast we headed directly for Double Island Point — across the South Pacific Ocean. There was an uncomfortable swell and Matey was disappointed to feel queasy much of the way. It was a relief to finally put the anchor down behind the point at around 6 pm. Captain claims the ‘washing machine’ effect is not generally experienced at sea. Hmmm. Matey hopes not – or at least that as she acquires ‘sea legs’ the effect will be less grim … Captain was excited to see a large marlin leap from the water en route and we also had dolphins playing at the bow. Normally Matey would be delighted by this but her enthusiasm for all things was sadly challenged.

Crossing the bar was rough but painless enough with the coast guard happy to provide way-point co-ordinates. The lead lights also helped as breakers broke on each side and we rode in on the swell. It was easy to see why the bar is regarded as dangerous — it was a good idea to cross it at high tide in calm conditions and in daylight. Once inside, it was warm, the water was flat and you would never suspect what is on the other side of Inskip Point. In the still waters Captain investigated a strange noise coming from the motor. Oops – a bolt holding the engine together had loosened and worked its way off. Fortunately the engine didn’t fall apart in the ocean or as we were crossing the bar. As we slowly drifted Captain unbolted parts of the engine. Eventually the problem was more or less sorted and we made our way into Pelican Bay and anchored at the far end. Sadly, the dinghy motor also seems to have suffered in its first sea journey and was refusing to start. Perhaps it didn’t like the swell either. Captain has investigated  and found the throttle was damaged and stuck  – another problem sorted  – phew!

Bogan manners (and oxymorons)

During a well-deserved afternoon nap Matey was rudely woken by the noise of a couple in a tinny towing a child along at high speed in an inflatable ring. They had an entire lake to play in, but found it necessary to speed by within metres in loops of the only boat anchored. Not only is this bad manners, it is also illegal, according to the Captain. So, feeling justified in her slumber-induced grumpiness, Matey resorted to desperate measures to scare them off. It seemed to work – or perhaps it was just a coincidence – but soon after they left us alone. Matey celebrated a minor victory over bogans while Captain cringed in embarrassment!

A late afternoon walk to and dip in the ocean beach improved the Matey’s mood. Back at the  boat, the just-past-full moon rose over the lake. Matey can’t even begin to describe its beauty, unobstructed by buildings and other evidence of ‘civilisation'...

Cliffs near the bar - note the swell!

Double Island Point

Late afternoon dip

Putting the L in TC

After a wet weekend and with rain forecast all week, plus the delay of a day for the scheduled dry docking of TC, it’s been all systems go since early Tuesday morning when TC was lifted into slings and hoisted out of the water. A pressured hose down was followed by scouring, scrubbing and scraping off of barnacles until our time in the sling expired and TC was put on blocks in the dry dock for further TLC.

Our friend from the moorings, Bert the Boat Builder, kindly came to help us out. Fortunately there was very little osmosis, but Bert’s expertise on sorting any hull issues/damage was greatly appreciated.

Conveniently, we’ve had three perfect sunny days, so yesterday and today we were able to apply a coat of anti-foul each day. We’re not scheduled to go back in the water until after the weekend, so Matey might even manage to visit the conveniently located swimming pool over the weekend for some laps. Seeing as we’re so far ahead of schedule Captain is dreaming up other jobs that need doing while in dry dock and have access to water – e.g. cleaning the boat down thoroughly, polishing the white area, replacing the dodgy water pump, etc etc. Relax Captain, relax.

Sea of masts at Manly: view from the dry dock

Before

Matey is impressed by the fin-like centreboards

Captain Bluebeard and some girl

The local bakery keeps the Captain going ... or maybe he keeps it going?

Captain cracks open a new can

First coat 

Matey gets her hands (and feet) dirty

Final coat

Running the gauntlet

The last few weeks have involved to-ing and fro-ing between the Brisbane River and the islands in Moreton Bay. In the river, disembarking in under three hours can be a challenge as the temptation to chat en route can be too great for the Captain to resist …

Captain deprogrammed

A visit to Brisbane’s maritime museum seemed obligatory, so, sensibly, on the hottest day so far we walked to the museum and another ray of light was shone on the Captain’s complex soul. An old naval ship, HMAS Diamantina, in the dry dock is open for viewing. This ship was commissioned in 1945 and while Captain ain’t quite that old and his time spent on navy ships was slightly more recent, Matey got a sense of the trauma involved in living the life of a sailor in the confined spaces of a sweltering metal hulk. 

The higher Matey went in the ship the hotter it got, until she thought she might pass out in the boiler room, though the engine was dead. 
Matey was perplexed to observe that the person steering the ship was in effect blind, as this was done from an almost windowless enclave. Orders were barked down a pipe from above, apparently. As Captain likes to obey orders (particularly those issued by the Matey) she is surprised he lasted as long as he did in such an environment. His rebellious spirit was appeased, however, by the offering of a new hat …

Kathryn visited for a few days and we made our way into the bay. The weather wasn’t so great so we were all relieved to arrive at Mud Island and put our trusty friend the Rocna down. Soon after David and Cate – acquaintances from the moorings – visited for afternoon tea and dinner. We discovered over breakfast the next morning that their boat is gorgeous inside as well as outside. They are a refreshingly young and interesting couple with all the idealism Matey remembers – a fading glimmer from long ago. They then led us on a search for a whale skeleton in one of the ‘creeks’ of Mud Island accessible only at high tide. As always with whales – it was fascinating to see the scale of these awe-inspiring creatures, and as always in photos – the subject was diminished by the attempt to capture, and Matey managed to goof the process up entirely.

Given the slip

The scheduled day of the lift-out finally arrived today. After much shopping around, we decided on the Moreton Bay Trailer Boat Club as the venue for the scrubbing and repainting/anti-fouling of the hull because it uses slings (rather than trolleys). An unusually narrow catamaran has many advantages, but also some disadvantages, as TC can’t be hauled out using the standard catamaran (or monohull) trolleys. So, this limited options. This morning however, we received a call to tell us hauling out wouldn’t be possible due to the ‘strong wind warning’. Interestingly these have been absent many days in the last few weeks when we’ve ventured out into the bay to confront 30+ knot winds, but today, with just calm rain, a warning has been issued. Strange.

Even gait

At least though this meant a medical emergency could be attended to and poor old Captain now has three stitches in his toe. For those familiar with his recent medical history – it’s the other foot, so he’s now able to walk without a limp as both feet hurt! Balance is a good thing…

Blood on the deck

The medical emergency came about yesterday afternoon as we were making our way to anchor near Manly, so we’d be ready for the scheduled haul-out this morning. A nice man in a big monohull tried to run us down (no – really). Some people here don’t seem to pay much attention to quaint notions of boating safety (e.g. cross behind rather than directly in front of an on-coming vessel in a channel) so we are becoming accustomed to this. As we were under full sail (we had right of way) a large two-decked monohull bore down on us at an alarming speed on a direct collision course and we assumed he would change course later than we would like, just to make our day interesting. But as he got to within 100 metres Captain’s keen eyes noticed no-one was at the helm but the autopilot and he jumped up to gesticulate and shout things that can’t be repeated here. Mr Motorboat was then observed to scurry upstairs and the boat turned 180 degrees just moments before impact! Sadly though, in all the excitement, blood was spilled on the deck. Matey – expert stower and normally quite safety conscious – put down the nail scissors she was using as she jumped to her feet. Captain leapt up on the deck and managed to jump exactly where Matey had put the scissors! We assume this is how the Captain got the gash in his toe anyway, otherwise it's a mystery. Poor old Captain!